


Trouble In Paradise

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [34]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drama Llama, Gen, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16345316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Sam's so damn happy since they moved in with the Williams pack. So happy, he worries it might all end. He comes home and what he finds leads him to believe his worries aren't unfounded...





	Trouble In Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, I lied when I said the next one was before all of them move in together. ^^' But we're still going back in time to see our boys get to know each other better.
> 
> I know I just posted but here, have another one. It's so short anyway. :)

* * *

Sam worries too much and he knows it. But can you blame him? It's been a week since they moved in with the Williams pack and everything is perfect. Too perfect. Two nights ago everyone―everyone except Marlon―had fallen asleep together. The beds in all the rooms are big. Big, yes, but not meant to hold seven people. It was cramped and hot and… _perfect_. It’s impossible to understand how perfect unless you’ve experienced being part of a pile of people contentedly sleep-purring in subconscious sync. The sound reminded him a bit of when he was little, sitting on a blanket under a blooming Littleleaf Linden tree reading. The tree was so full of bees the air hummed loudly of their buzzing wings. At first, Sam thought it was the heat that woke him, but no. He was sticky with sweat but not uncomfortable. They lay in a haphazard tangle with Gabe starfishing on top like he tried to hug all of them at the same time, his tail wagging in his sleep. It wasn’t Dean or Dick who woke him either. Both of them claw in their sleep sometimes. Dick usually only when he has a nightmare. No, what woke him turned out to be Marlon standing in the crack of the doorway, light from the hallway falling right on Sam’s face. He’d worn an almost sad smile. Sam had ‘ _Mrrt?_ ’-ed at him but he just shook his head, winked, and retreated while closing the door.

It’s everything he ever wanted from life. Everything and everyone smells like home and pack and good and safe. Even better is coming home from work to find people still awake. When something feels this good, can you really blame him for fearing that it for one reason or another will get an abrupt end? So he worries.

It’s been an early shift at work. He opens the door and instantly gets an icy ball in his belly at what he hears.

“ ** _YOU FUCKING CHEATER! I FUCKING HATE YOU!_** ” Dean bellows. Sam freezes mid-motion to listen.

Lucifer sniggers. “Face it, Dean, you aren’t good enough for me. Besides, you deserve this for not telling me you had Gabe’s phone,” he says, voice mean and taunting.

“ **DIDN’T TELL Y** ―!” Dean’s voice goes up in falsetto and cracks from outrage. “ _Dude!_ I sent you fucking nudes! I literally wrote that those were pictures of me! It’s _right. Here!_ Look! It says ‘Here I am, naked and wet, thinking of you.’ Here _I_ am! _Me!_ Does this look like fucking Gabe to you?! It’s not my fault if you’re too much of a fucking moron to figure it out when neither words nor pictures can give you a fucking clue! Gabe gave you his new phone number right after the fucking date! How did you not put two and two together?!”

Sam hears sniggering but it isn’t Lucifer this time. It sounds like Mike or maybe Raff. The scent of Dean’s rage is so intense it stings Sam’s nose despite not even being in the same room.

“I thought he sent a pic of a hookup to tease me. I still got texts from his old phone, the fuck would I think it wasn’t him for?!”

“For the love of Heimdall, you cheating peabrain! The fuck do you think he gave you a new phone number for??”

Sam startles at hearing Dean evoking the name of the foreign god rather than any of their own gods. Even in this situation, it’s such a big anomaly it stands out. Luci has cheated. His and Dean’s mating bond has barely begun to form and he cheated. Sam didn’t think Dean cared if his mates had a little fun with others but apparently he’s wrong. His heart jackhammers and a lump that’s hard to swallow past is forming in his throat thinking about what this will mean. Dean doesn’t often throw temper tantrums of this magnitude these days.

“He’s _Gabe_ ,” Luci defends himself. “Do you know how many times he’s given me phone numbers claiming it’s his new and I’ve ended up calling Knotaholics Anonymous, or the Ministry of Defense, or a senile grandmother in India thinking I’m her grandson, or, the list goes on!”

“And that gives you the right to cheat?!”

Sam carefully sneaks towards the living room where the voices are coming from, finally catching other scents under the sharp sting of Dean’s rage. The whole pack is there which should mean this is serious, except their scents don’t quite line up. He can smell high anxiety and fear from Gabe, some anxiety from Mike and Raff, but Marlon and Dick smell mostly content and Marlon’s purring his all-is-well as if Dean and Luci aren’t one step away from tearing at each others’ throats. Luci’s scent is a jumble―no surprise there―but he said Dean isn’t good enough for him so Dean must have done something awful for him to switch his position on the matter.

Sam peers around the corner. Gabe’s standing in his line of sight with his back turned, tail poking out of the hole cut in his pyjama pants and pressed so tightly to his body it’s wedged between his butt-cheeks. Sam loves that tail. He’d been somewhat sceptical when Dean told him about it but it’s so charming Sam’s come to wish everyone had tails. It wags when he’s happy or excited (often), stands straight out when he’s mad, or is pressed between his legs when he’s sad, fearful, or lying.

Sam takes a step to the side and finally gets a full view of the living room. He instantly relaxes, a hiccuped giggle of relief escaping. Dean whirls on him and points at him accusingly with a dangerous growl of ‘ _Say one word and I’ll fucking shred you, bitch._ ’ Sam holds up his hands and averts his face while licking his lips, though he can’t stop his shoulders from jumping or the dimples from drilling into his cheeks with his held-back mirth.

Marlon and Dick sit at a corner table going over some paperwork while enjoying the show, Raff sits leaned back with a whiskey in an armchair watching, and Mike sits on the sofa by the living room table while Luci and Dean are standing on each side of the living room table, Dean glaring heatedly and Luci with an arrogant, mocking expression, both flaring. Dean hasn’t thrown a tantrum like this in ages because― 

“I didn’t cheat, Dean. I didn’t _have to_ since you fucking suck at this,” Luci taunts.

―they stopped playing Monopoly back home.

Mike’s acting bank and Lucifer’s won big, having most of the streets and money, red hotels built all over. Dean’s the worst loser in the world. Apparently, Luci isn’t a humble winner. 

Sam lays a hand on Gabe’s shoulder and purrs in comfort. His short mate turns around to burrow his head in under Sam’s arm like a baby bird seeking shelter under a parental wing. “I hate when my family fights,” Gabe mumbles when Sam’s arms circle him.

“It’s okay. Dean will mope for a bit then get over it. But for future reference, I’ll give you a list of games never to play with him to avoid this,” Sam promises as the argument continues…

* * *


End file.
